Bolts from the Blue!
by sprinter1988
Summary: A home for all my one-shot ideas. Enjoy!
1. Career's Advice

**Introduction:**

**Ok, I've thought about doing it for a long time, so now I am. This is now where all my one-shot Harry Potter stories will be collected in the future. Those that I have already may get put into this little collection one day, but for now they are fine where they are.**

**I will try and keep this as a home to one-shots only, but it may also house early chapters of what I will hope to one day expand into full-blown fics.**

**I also need a title for the collection. Any ideas, please throw them my way!**

**Anyway, enjoy!**

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**Warnings Specific to this Story:**

**Umbridge is in it.**

**Ends with the Harry/Hermione pairing.**

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**Career's Advice**

Fifth year Gryffindor student Harry Potter entered the office of his Head of House, Professor McGonagall, for their scheduled career's advice meeting.

He made a point of ignoring the fastidious control freak Dolores Umbridge who was sitting in the corner of the room taking notes and sat himself down in the seat opposite from Professor McGonagall.

McGonagall got straight down to business.

"Mr Potter, during our session we will be going over various possibilities for a future career for yourself, as well as deciding which subjects you will need to take at N.E.W.T level in order to qualify for your desired career. Understand?"

"Perfectly," replied Harry, who was doing his best to ignore the scratching of Umbridge's quill as she scribbled down notes.

"Very well," said McGonagall as she took out a sheet of parchment and laid it on the desk between them. "I have here the list that you submitted a fortnight ago of possible careers that you were interested in discussing further. First on the list was Professional Quidditch Player."

"That's right, but-" began Harry, but was interrupted before he could continue.

"_Hem, hem._" coughed Professor Umbridge in her corner.

McGonagall pretended to not notice and continued on. "Obviously there are few subjects on the Hogwarts curriculum that can help you in this area. One recommendation that I can made for your N.E.W.T years is that you sign up to assist Madam Hooch in teaching younger students to fly as this shows a willingness to get involved and, above all, team spirit.

"Ok, but-" said Harry, before being interrupted again.

"_Hem, hem._" coughed Professor Umbridge.

McGonagall took a deep breath and closed her eyes for a moment before continuing. "But of course the best and most obvious thing to do is become proficient at the game itself, something that you are well on the way to perfecting-"

"Yes, but-"Harry tried again, only to again be interrupted.

Professor Umbridge did not bother coughing this time, and instead just began talking. "Minerva, I am afraid that I must interrupt you here. Mr Potter is currently serving a lifetime ban from the sport of Quidditch. This will, of course, extend beyond his school years so suffice to say that discussing the possibility of him ever playing professionally is doing nothing but giving him false hope."

McGonagall's nostrils flared in anger before turning her attention back to the list in her hand.

"Very well, let us set that option aside for now and move on."

"Actually I-" Harry attempted, but McGonagall spoke over him.

"Next on your list is Curse Breaker. I'm sorry Mr Potter, but in order to become a successful curse breaker you must have a good education in the subjects of Ancient Runes and Arithmancy, neither of which you elected to take for your O.W.L years and so cannot take them at N.E.W.T level. Perhaps we ought to be doing more to assist second years when selecting their O.W.L options."

Umbridge scribbled something down on a separate piece of parchment. Like any good idea she heard she stole it and took the credit.

Harry tried to say something, but McGonagall carried on talking.

"Now, your third choice was working in Muggle Relations. Why did you select this option, Mr Potter?"

"Hermione said that I should have something to fall back on if the Quidditch thing didn't work out," replied Harry.

"But you did not take Muggle Studies," said Professor McGonagall.

Harry frowned in confusion before replying "I grew up in the Muggle world and I return there every summer. How am I not qualified? Anyway-"

Umbridge interrupted this time. "I'm afraid that your repeated breaching of the Statute of Secrecy by performing magic in the presence of Muggles will disbar you from consideration for joining the Muggle Liaison Office at the Ministry."

"Fine," said Harry. "But-"

"And your fourth and final option is to join the Auror corps," said Professor McGonagall.

At this Umbridge got to her feet and shouted "There is no chance of Mr Potter ever joining the ranks of the Aurors! His criminal record will see to that!"

McGonagall got to her feet and retorted "He doesn't have a criminal record! He was cleared of all charges by the Wizengamot!"

"On a technicality orchestrated by Dumbledore!"

"HEY!" shouted Harry, jumping to his feet to stand between them. "What kind of example is this to be setting to one of your students?"

His outburst evidently caught them both off guard, for they offered no reply but gaped at him with open mouths.

"Now then, I have been trying to tell you since I came in here that I have actually changed my mind regarding my options."

"Why didn't you say anything?" asked McGonagall.

"Because between the two, of you I couldn't get a word in edgeways. Now, will you two be quiet and let me talk, or should I just walk out of here and file a complaint with anyone and everyone that I can think of regarding the quality of this meeting?"

McGonagall's mouth was a thin line, a sign of anger, but she sat down in her chair and gestured for Harry to do the same.

Harry looked to Umbridge. The toad-like woman was red in the face and ready to explode, but one look at McGonagall's made her sit down.

"Right," said Harry, as he retook his seat. "As I was saying, I have changed my mind regarding my future prospects since handing in that list. A couple of days ago Hermione and I sat down and went through a couple of things, only to come to the conclusion that I probably won't have to do too much work myself once I leave Hogwarts."

Again both women were caught off guard by this and it took McGonagall a few minutes to recover.

"And how, exactly, did you come to that conclusion, Mr Potter?"

"Oh, it's simple really," said Harry "We just had to crunch the numbers."

"Crunch the numbers?" echoed McGonagall.

"Yeah. See, this is how I see it. To start with there is the money that I already have stored away in Gringotts, which I can tell you is already a rather substantial amount. This sum will only be boosted by the lawsuits."

"Lawsuits?" asked McGonagall.

"Oh yes. You see, I've noticed a pattern with the way things go around here. No matter the problems going on, a large amount of them always gets resolved by the end of the school year, say around the middle of May to early June. The way I figure it, the truth about Voldemort's return to power will be revealed about then."

Umbridge tried to interrupt, but McGonagall hit her with a silencing spell, allowing Harry to continue.

"During the few months, well, longer than that when you take the tournament into consideration, I have been on the receiving end of large amounts of slander from various parties, including, but not limited to, the Daily Prophet and the Minister of Magic himself. Once the lawyers have dealt with them others will be getting called upon.

"The Wizengamot, although they ultimately found me not guilty, carried out a trail that should never have happened, so I will be taking legal action against them. The Improper Use of Magic Office failed to fully investigate the circumstances surrounding my two alleged breaches of the Statute of Secrecy and that failure ultimately led to my trial. The Department of Magical Law Enforcement also had a role in this. Both departments will be hearing from my lawyers.

"Both the Department of Magical Sports and Games and the Department of International Magical Cooperation were negligent in their organisation of the Tri-Wizard Tournament, something that saw me illegally entered and forced to participate against my will. They will hear from my lawyers.

"Umbridge here will also be getting a visit, even if only because of this," here he held up his hand to allow McGonagall to see the words '_I must not tell lies_' that were scarred into the back of his hand.

"And then, naturally, Hogwarts itself, its staff, the Board of Governors and the Wizarding Examinations Authority will be investigated."

"Why?" asked McGonagall.

"Slander, bullying staff, incompetent staff, the tournament, my little misadventures in my previous years here, her…" he gestured over his shoulder to the silently raging Umbridge.

"Right…" said McGonagall in a small voice.

"Then I figure that I some point in the near future I will have to kill or be killed by Voldemort. If I'm the one killed then my future career won't matter anyway. If I prove successful I will obviously claim the substantial bounty that the Ministry will, by then, have placed upon his head, adding to my fortune. Naturally I will then stake my claim over any wealth that Voldemort has, as well as putting in claims with the families of his many Death Eaters.

"Once that is all over I will begin investing in both the Magical world and the Muggle one, so that I am getting plenty of money from various businesses and properties. I will then employ a highly competent team to run everything while I spend most of my time sunning myself on my very own tropical island."

"I… see…" said McGonagall a few moments after Harry finished his little story. "And I assume that you will still keep the Muggle Relations option as a backup? The Ministry may not employ you but Gringotts and several other businesses may well do so."

"Sure. I'll keep that as a backup."

McGonagall nodded and said "Very well. You may go."

Harry got up and left.

After almost a minute McGonagall looked over to Umbridge and saw that the woman was no longer raging. She lifted the silencing charm on the woman, who then got up and left without saying another word.

* * *

That evening three of the four Heads of House were gathered in McGonagall's office for tea and biscuits, and McGonagall told the other two about the unusual careers advice meeting that she had had with Mr Potter.

"Well," said Flitwick. "That may just shed some light on some of the things said by some of my Ravenclaws during their meetings with me."

"How so?" asked McGonagall.

"To start with there was Padma Patil. When she submitted her form, her main idea was to be the brains behind the beauty salon that her sister and Miss Brown were intending to set up. But when we had are meeting she was adamant that she would take over her father's tea-growing business."

McGonagall looked down at the cup in her hands. They were currently drinking tea grown by the Patil family in India. She asked "So how do Mr Potter's plans fit into this?"

"My guess would be to reduce import taxes," replied Flitwick. "For the Patil family to bring their own tea into Britain they have to pay a high rate of import tax to the Ministry. However if Mr Potter were to buy the tea from them, with the transaction taking place while the product is still in India, he could then ship it into Britain at far less cost. This would allow both Mr Potter and the Patil family to benefit, especially if his sense of fair play remains and he pays them a decent price."

"I have no doubt that he will," said McGonagall. "But you say that your Miss Patil no longer wishes to be involved in her sister's idea for a beauty salon. Yet she and Miss Brown both told me that they still intend to open the salon."

"That is correct," said Flitwick. "Miss Turpin and Miss Brocklehurst will be joining the business instead. They claim to already have financial backing."

"So did the other two," observed McGonagall.

"Probably Mr Potter," put in Professor Sprout. "Rumour has it that he has already given the Weasley twins the start-up capital that they require to kick-start their idea for a new joke shop."

"If that is indeed the case, then it would seem that the Potter Business Empire is already beginning to take shape," observed Flitwick.

"Yes, but I am concerned about his intentions to file lawsuits against the school," said McGonagall "What if we're forced to close?"

"I doubt that it will come to that," said Sprout. "But if it does, then I'm sure that Mr Potter will probably have a solution up his sleeve.

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_Fifteen Years Later…_

Time had passed and things had certainly worked out exactly as Harry had planned. By the end of this fifth year at Hogwarts, Voldemort and his followers had indeed been exposed to the world. As a result, Harry Potter's lawyers (the finest Muggleborn wizards-turned-lawyers that could be found) had carried out every action that Harry had threatened.

Both the Ministry and Hogwarts had been hit hard by this but, fortunately by the time all the court cases had been fought and all the paperwork had been filled out, Voldemort had ceased to be a threat due to Harry somehow sealing him in a large rock with the Sword of Gryffindor wedged into the top.

Only a select few knew how he had done this and none of them were prepared to tell. Suffice to say, the Unspeakables were impressed by Harry's display when he fought Voldemort in the Atrium of the Ministry.

A societal shift had occurred and now you either worked for restructured Ministry, for the massively overhauled Hogwarts, for Potter Business Enterprises or you didn't work.

Dolores Umbridge was one of those who didn't work

Dressed now in only ratty clothes gained through charity she shuffled along Diagon Alley, taking in the world around her. Every sign, from Ollivanders' Wand Shop to Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions now bore a symbol, that of a snowy owl in flight with a lightning bolt on it. This was a sign that that particular shop was owned, at least in part, by Harry Potter.

It was like that everywhere you went, be it Diagon Alley, Knockturn Alley, Hogsmeade or Godric's Hollow, most wizarding businesses were now controlled by Potter Business Enterprises.

Every broom made in the UK was made by Potter Business Enterprises. Every book was printed by Potter Business Enterprises. Every wand carved, every beer brewed, every owl bred, every robe sewn, every nail manicured, every chocolate frog moulded, every cake decorated, every potion brewed (commercially) was done so by Potter Business Enterprises.

Heck, most of the injuries treated in St Mungo's were done so to some extent through the involvement of Potter Business Enterprises, as no less than five new wards and a complete refurbishment of the old ones had been done with Potter Money, and all medical supplies were brought from the company.

Dolores Umbridge shuffled along the street towards the Leaky Cauldron. She scowled at the sight before her.

The twelve foot high wall that had once stood between Diagon Alley and the courtyard of the Leaky Cauldron was now gone, replaced by a wall only three feet high and with an opening in the middle. The courtyard was now larger and contained a dozen tables with chairs all around them, allowing patrons to enjoy a drink out in the sunlight.

Hannah Longbottom, the Landlady, was handing out a collection of drinks to a group of off duty Aurors. The apron that she wore bore both the logo for the Leaky Cauldron and the one for Potter Business Enterprises.

Umbridge turned away and made her way off down Knockturn Alley. There, half way along, she came to the front door of her current home.

The sign above the door read "Knockturn Alley Homeless Shelter."

And in the corner there was the logo for Potter Business Enterprises.

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Many miles away, on a tropical island that one could only get to via a portkey that had been made by the man who owned the place, Harry Potter lay stretched out on the sandy beach, soaking in the sunlight.

Beside him his wife of ten years, Hermione, was scribbling furiously in a notebook, several textbooks (written by her and published by… well, you can probably guess by now) lay open around her.

Harry knew better than to interrupt her when she was like this.

A joyous shout from her caused him to sit up and take notice.

With a bright smile on her face she turned to him and announced "Harry, I think I've figured out a permanent cure for lycanthropy."

Harry smiled and replied "You're on a role love. How about a dip in the ocean to celebrate?"

"You're on!" said Hermione, standing up and flinging her book aside. "Last one there is a bundimun!"

Harry laughed and raced after her.

Life was good.

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**Well, that's that. I hope you enjoyed it!**


	2. Life on Hiatus

**So first off, congratulations are in order. Well done to Dr Stranger for your suggestion for a title for this collection of One-Shots: "Bolts from the Blue." Thanks to everyone else who offered a serious suggestion.**

**Second, one review from ezok suggested that in future I should give a small summary for each story at the beginning instead of a list of warnings. It is an excellent point, and I shall take it on board, but will also keep the warning list as required.**

**So, on with the show!**

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**Life on Hiatus**

_Summary:__ So let's face it, there are a lot of stories on this website that have been left in limbo, and for the Harry Potter fandom, there is no exception. But what do those characters talk about to pass the time while they are waiting for their story to be updated? This story examines the experience of four characters as they wait on the precipice of oblivion, wondering if their writer will ever come back and finish of their tale in one way or another._

_Warnings:__ Harry/Hermione pairing and Draco/OC pairing. Jabs are taken at various fandom clichés, including soul bonds, random siblings, friendly Malfoy, wrong BWL, heir to multiple families, male veela/werewolf/vampire hybrid, multiple animagus forms and much, much more. Also contains a very brief mention of a Slash relationship, but it is hardly even noticable: a passing reference barely ten words long. It is all intended to be light-spirited and if you get seriously offended by anything, you're probably taking things too Sirius(ly). – Ha! See what I did there? Yeah, one of the oldest jokes in the fandom. Deal with it!_

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Draco Lucius Scorpius Abraxas Salazar Edward Jacob Malfoy let out a long suffering sigh and asked the same question that he had been asking for months: "How long has it been?"

To his left, his long-time best friend, one Lord Hadrian James Sirius Remus Severus Potter Evans Black Peverell Merlin Gryffindor Ravenclaw Hufflepuff Slytherin Riddle Flamel Ollivander, turned towards the stone wall next to him and counted up the tally marks that they had engraved there.

After a quick count he replied "Three years, nine months, three weeks, two days and…" he held up his left arm and pulled back the sleeve to examine the overpriced gold watch that he had been made to purchase in the Harrods Department Store in London during a mandatory spending spree before starting his first year at Hogwarts (… ten hours, forty seven minutes and eighteen seconds."

Draco let out another long suffering sigh and repositioned himself so that he was lying across the step that he had previously been sitting on. As he did so, he rested his head on the lap of the girl sitting next to him. This girl was his bonded life mate, though how this ever came to be what with the two of them being only eleven years of age was not something that their author had ever deemed fit to give a satisfactory explanation to. Basically it had something to do with the fact that Draco was a veela-werewolf-vampire crossbreed who had apparently fallen in love with this girl the moment that he had first lain eyes upon her. She didn't appear to have a choice in the matter, as apparently her rejecting him would have caused him to die, and she was too nice to do such a thing.

Who was this girl, you ask? Why, she was Harry's super cool, super smart and just as powerful as him twin sister, Sakura Harriet Rose Lily Mary Sue Isabella Potter Evans Black Peverell Merlin Gryffindor Ravenclaw Hufflepuff Slytherin Riddle Flamel Ollivander, that's who!

She smiled down at him and began running her fingers through his hair, which consisted of silky golden locks, rather than the sleeked-back, white-blond hair usually associated with him. She gazed lovingly into his beautiful eyes which were sapphire coloured rather than the usual cold grey he was known for.

Sakura herself and brilliant emerald green eyes, like those of her mother and twin brother, and her red hair was long and flowing, with two dark streaks of black hair framing her face.

Hadrian had black hair which was cut and styled professionally, with several streaks of red in it. He didn't wear any glasses on his face, despite it being a family trait, for on his mandatory spending spree before starting his first year at Hogwarts he had wandered into a special shop in Diagon Alley where they sold all sorts of Muggle things, including contact lenses. Harry had purchased some of these before going down Knockturn Alley and wandered into a shop where he paid a rather suspect looking man a ridiculous sum of money (because he could!) to put many enchantments (mostly illegal) upon these contact lenses. These enchantments had included the ability to see through walls, invisibility cloaks and disillusionment spells, the ability to see peoples' magical auras, to tell if an animal was an animagus or not, to see magical residue and an in-built automatic shield charm for those situations when someone might have thrown a curse at his face.

Strangely enough, Hadrian had never used any of these features, despite living through more than two dozen outlandish incidents in the time between then and now when utilising said features would have been a massive time saver.

"Are we ever going to actually finish our first year?" the girl sitting next to Hadrian demanded of no one in particular.

Hadrian smiled and wrapped a comforting arm around the girl who had become his soul mate (literally) after he rescued her from the troll on Halloween.

Hermione Jane (sometimes Jean) Ophelia Juliet Rosalind Celia Granger was her name originally, but all that had changed when she was in the Hospital Wing after being hexed by Ron Weasley. Madam Pomfrey had made the rather shocking discovery that there had been some glamour charms on Hermione and had removed them, revealing that she had the same sapphire eyes and golden hair (no longer bushy) as Draco. A quick search had shown her to be Draco's long-lost secret older sister, who had been dumped into a Muggle orphanage by a callous Lucius Malfoy who had wanted a son instead of a daughter.

After this shock discovery had hit the press, Lucius, upon realising that Hermione had some sway over her new soul-mate Hadrian, had attempted to persuade the Wizengamot into forcing her into becoming his legal daughter again.

Hadrian had invoked his rights as Lord Potter Evans Black Peverell Merlin Gryffindor Ravenclaw Hufflepuff Slytherin Riddle Flamel Ollivander and challenged Lucius to a duel, during which he had summoned the Sword of Gryffindor and killed the obnoxious man.

Draco and his mother Narcissa were more than fine with this and, with Lucius out of the way, had turned out to be really nice individuals who had allowed Hermione into their family while becoming great friends with Hermione's adoptive parents, Daniel and Emma Granger.

It was now a little over six months later and Narcissa was already planning her marriage to her next husband, Severus Tobias Snape, who wasn't a colossal berk, but a really nice guy who was completely misunderstood and who treated Hadrian nicely simply because Hadrian had showed an aptitude for potions brewing.

Hadrian sighed and said "I wish we at least had my magically expanded, multi-compartment trunk with us. We could be doing something other than just sitting around waiting for The Author to come back."

"Have you actually used that trunk since you bought it?" asked Sakura.

"Well, I did kit it out," replied Hadrian. "There were two fully functioning apartments, complete with bedrooms, living room, kitchen and bathroom, a gymnasium, a meditation room, a potions laboratory, a spell practice area complete with duelling dummies, a room to practice all my martial arts and a huge library with copies of every book from every shop in Diagon and Knockturn Alleys."

"But have you actually used any of that?" asked Sakura.

"Not as such, no," said Hadrian, meekly. "I fully intended to, but then I randomly found the room of requirement and apparently it's much easier to sneak off there than it is to hop into my trunk, which stands at the foot of my bed, which is situated in mine and Hermione's married quarters."

"Hey," said Hermione, poking his shoulder. "You never told me about this secret library of yours."

Draco sat up and said "Forget the library, sis, I want to hear more about these martial arts that you do."

"Didn't you know?" asked Sakura. "Hadrian here began paying for lessons in martial arts from the age of three and had mastered every single one by the age of ten."

"Really?" asked Draco, intrigued.

"Oh yes," said Sakura, and began listing them off. "Karate, judo, taekwondo, aikido, kendo, kyūdō, iaidō and shurikenjutsu."

"You mastered all of that by the age of ten?" asked Hermione.

"Yep," said Hadrian. "Magic helped, of course."

"Of course," agreed Draco, grinning.

"Seems a little farfetched to me," said Hermione. "Especially as you haven't used any of it since coming to Hogwarts. Imagine how handy that stuff could have been when facing down the troll."

"True enough," said Sakura. "But is it more farfetched than your being a able to use ancient runes, arithmancy, charms, potions and transfiguration to a N.E.W.T level standard?" asked Sakura.

Hermione blushed before replying "Well you and Hadrian could do better in all your subjects if you just put half as much effort into them as you did into becoming animagi."

"Oh yeah," said Draco. "How many forms did you have again?"

"Nine each," replied Hadrian. "I'm able to turn into an African lion, a European badger, a timber rattlesnake, a bald eagle, a griffin, a Hungarian horntail dragon, a basilisk a mako shark and a black panther."

"And I can turn into an African cheetah, a European otter, a green tree boa, an osprey, a hippogriff, a Norwegian ridgeback dragon, a hydra, a bottlenose dolphin and a snow leopard," added Sakura.

"I wish I knew what my animagus forms were," said Hermione, morosely.

"Well if the story ever picks up again I'm sure that at some point we'll brew up the special animagus-revealer potion that will show you what you are and make the whole learning process a hundred times easier," replied Hadrian.

"I've been promised that potion for the last eight chapters," said Hermione.

"At least you have the potential to have an animagus," argued Draco. "As a veela-werewolf-vampire hybrid, I can't have an animagus form."

"You can turn into a blood-sucking bat, a huge, terrifying wolf and a weird human-bird thing that can shoot fireballs from his clawed hands," said Hadrian. "What more do you want?"

"Oh, I don't know," replied Draco in an airy, playful tone. "How about metamorphmagus capabilities?"

Hadrian grinned before morphing his face into an exact replica of their former Headmaster, Professor Dumbledore (who had been arrested at Christmas and pushed through the Veil of Death on New Year's Eve for endangering students by bringing the Philosopher's Stone into Hogwarts).

"Cut that out," said Hermione, slapping Hadrian on the thigh. "You'll give me nightmares."

"That goes for you too," said Draco to Sakura, who had turned her face into that of their current Headmistress, Professor McGonagall (who had escaped arrest, despite being complicit in Dumbledore's plotting).

"Sorry," said Hadrian and Sakura in unison as they morphed their faces back to normal.

"That's better," said Hermione, before grabbing Hadrian by his tie and pulling him in for a quick kiss.

Hadrian smiled at her and then looked down at his tie. It was yellow and black, the colours of Hufflepuff house.

"Why was I sorted into Hufflepuff for this story?" he asked of no one in particular. "I mean, apart from the welcoming feast, I've had absolutely zero interaction with anyone from Hufflepuff, despite the fact that I got on really well with Susan Bones, Hannah Abbott, Ernie Macmillan and Justin Finch-Fletchley when I first met them."

"I could ask the same thing about my sorting into Ravenclaw," said Hermione, examining her own tie. "I was getting on really well with Padma Patil and Lisa Turpin at the welcoming feast, but after that I don't seem to have anything to do with them."

"It's the same in Slytherin," said Sakura. "I had a blast talking to Daphne Greengrass at the welcoming feast, but then we just stopped interacting."

"Well, at least you've got Draco in the same house," observed Hadrian. "You've got someone to interact with in lessons. I've got to put up with being separated from Hermione in any lesson that the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws don't share."

"Could be worse," said Sakura. "You could be in Gryffindor with Neville Longbottom, the Boy-Who-Lived-And-Is-Inexplicably-A-Complete-Arse-About-It."

"That's true," said Hadrian. "I think that if I shared a dormitory with him, one of us might be missing a limb by now."

"If The Author let you, of course," added Hermione.

Everyone chuckled at that before settling into a comfortable silence.

After a few minutes, Sakura spoke.

"Hey, here's something to do. We'll go around in a circle and each say our least favourite thing about the story so far."

"Alright," said Hadrian. "You first."

"Ok. So far I've not been a huge fan of the Americanisation of things. I mean, ok, some things I can let go of, like saying "pants" instead of "trousers" or "sidewalk instead of "pavement" but when we were in Harrods and Harry paid in dollars? I mean it's almost like The Author wasn't even trying."

Hadrian chuckled and agreed. "Yeah. Remember that chapter that got taken down after fifty reviewers complained?"

"Oh yeah," said Draco with a laugh. "The one where The Author had us all celebrating Thanksgiving. The moron."

"The turkey was nice, though," observed Hermione, to which everyone nodded in agreement.

"Ok, your turn," said Sakura to Draco.

Draco thought for a few moments before replying. "You know, I haven't really appreciated all the Monty Python references. I mean, while that whole "I spit in your general direction" thing that Hadrian did to Dumbledore before he was carted off to the Ministry was funny, but did we have to meet the Rabbit of Caerbannog when we were in detention in the Forbidden Forest? And what was the point of The Knights Who Say Ni standing at the front gates when we arrived?"

"Thank Merlin Hermione's adoptive dad liked to share his love of Monty Python with her," said Hadrian. "Where did you get that Holy Hand Grenade of Antioch, anyway?"

"If I knew, I'd tell you," replied Hermione.

"Plot hole!" said Sakura in a sing-song voice before asking Hadrian "Do you remember the fuss we had to endure before you could buy Hedwig?"

"Yes," replied Hadrian. "It really was an ex-parrot by the time Crookshanks got hold of him."

"I liked getting Crookshanks early," said Hermione with a fond smile. "But I don't like how we rushed through so much other stuff."

"How do you mean?" asked Draco.

"Well, there are exposing Quirrell-mort at the Halloween feast, finding the Room of Requirement, getting Dumbledore, Filch, Fudge, Umbridge and Skeeter all fired from their respective jobs, exposing Peter Pettigrew, petitioning to have Sirius Black released, finding out about the Horcruxes and alerting Madam Bones to their existence, getting equal rights for House Elves, Goblins and Centaurs, persuaded the Wizengamot to allow Sirus and Remus to pursue their relationship, exposing every Death Eater who escaped justice, discovering the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets so that it could be sealed off forever… it just feels like we've done a hell of a lot in less than a year. It would make sense if we somehow had foreknowledge of all of it due to being from the future or something, but we didn't."

"Yeah, events could have been spread out a little more," agreed Hadrian. "Between all that, plus school work, plus our extra-curricular learning, I've barely had time to sit down and relax for a bit."

"Until this hiatus, you mean," said Draco with a smirk.

"True enough," said Hadrian. "I, for one, have hated the inconsistency with muggle technology. One minute I'm jogging around the Black Lake at five in the morning with an iPod strapped to my arm, the next we're all at Hermione's adoptive parents' house for an afternoon over the Christmas holidays where Hermione's dad had just gotten a brand new, state of the art VHS tape recorder. I mean, if The Author wants to move our story from taking place in the 1990's to the 2000's, that's fine, but at least they should keep it consistent."

"Consistency has not been this story's strong suit," stated Hermione.

They lapsed into silence again, only to suddenly be interrupted by a change in the atmosphere.

What had once been all still and stagnant seemed to move, to breathe.

"This is it guys!" said Hadrian, enthusiastically. "Back to your places; we're getting updated!"

They all got to their feet and resumed their positions of walking down the marble staircase towards the Great Hall. They remained still as statues as they waited for the story to take control of them once again.

After several long moments of nothing happening, Sakura said in a loud whisper "Nothing's happening guys!"

Hadrian looked up and saw an expanse of white above them, black letters standing out against the backdrop.

"It's not an update," he stated. "It's an Author's Note."

The other three looked up and read the words above them.

_Dear Readers. My, it has been a long time, hasn't it? The truth is that I did not intend to be away from this story for so long, but my Naruto and Bleach writing took up a lot of my time. After a year I re-read this story and found it to be horrible. Since then I have been revising various parts of the story and now am ready to begin uploading again. Rather than simply replace each chapter I will upload it as a separate story. Look out for Hadrian Potter's Awesome Fun Adventure: The Rewrite, the first chapter of which should be uploaded within the week._

_Thanks for your time. The Author._

"A rewrite," stated Hermione. "Fantastic."

"Alright, places everyone!" ordered Hadrian. "Get ready to live our lives again in a much more detailed format in the form of five quick-fire updates, followed by three random updates over the following year, followed by our eventual abandonment long before the story can get back to this point again."

"Great," muttered Sakura. "Hey, does this mean I'm going to have a crush on Gilderoy Lockhart again?"

"I doubt we'll reach that point again, sis," said Harry as the world around them began to fade out and they were drawn into the world of The Rewrite!

* * *

**So there you go. I hope you enjoyed this little ditty and look out for more, coming soon!**


	3. A Day in the Life of Peeves

**A Day in the Life of Peeves**

_Summary:__ No one ever really takes the time to examine Peeves in any great detail. What is a day in the life of this Poltergeist really like?_

_Warnings:__ Rude words, rude behaviour and mentions of drawings of rude things lie ahead. You have been warned!_

_Special Mention: __I was inspired to write a story about Peeves following the tragic news earlier this week. As everyone knows, Peeves never got to appear in the Harry Potter films. What some of you may not know is that there were actually scenes shot for the first film featuring Peeves, but he was cut because the director and producers ended up feeling they did a terrible job on Peeves' costume and makeup. There were, apparently, plans to alter Peeves' look, perhaps for a later film, but this never came to be. Peeves was played by British actor and comedian Rik Mayall, who very sadly passed away last Monday._

* * *

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry has been stated by some individuals of dubious mental health to be the safest place in all of magical Britain. And, with the possible exception of the odd mountain troll, cerberus, dragon, basilisk, acromantula, werewolf, Dementor, hippogriff, centaur, blast-ended Skrewt, unregistered animagus, dodgy professor, bullying student, an iffy potion or two, the questionable contents of the greenhouses and the general lack of morals from all quarters, these people are, by and large, correct in that assessment.

It is curious, therefore, that in such a safe place there could ever be a sound that could inspire sheer terror amongst the students. But there was just such a sound.

It was a sound that made all sixth and seventh year students draw their wands and cast shield charms around themselves.

It was a sound that made all third, fourth and fifth year students run and hide.

It was a sound that made all first and second year students want to curl up into a ball and cry.

It was a sound that told all the Professors that their work day was about to get just a little bit more trying.

It was a sound that made the Caretaker's left eye begin to twitch uncontrollably.

"What sound could it be?" - Is what you are currently asking yourselves.

"What sound could possibly instil so much fear, so much terror, so much anger, and so much paranoia?"

Well, actually it is a relatively simple sound. Suffice to say, if you or I were ever to hear it, we'd either shrug it off or look around expectantly, hoping to see either some Morris dancers or some people dressed as Christmas elves.

The sound comes from several small jingle bells, the kind that a child might wave about whilst singing the relevant Christmas song.

In this case though, these jingle bells are attached to a hat, and it is the owner of said hat who inspires so much fear and terror.

The owner of the hat was, of course, Peeves the Poltergeist.

Peeves was the physical embodiment of chaos. He lived, breathed and thrived on causing anarchy and mayhem wherever he went. Be it knocking over wardrobes or suits of armour, throwing water balloons or inkwells, breaking chandeliers, writing rude words on a blackboard or simply blowing raspberries with his tongue, a moment spent near Peeves could never be called dull.

Being a poltergeist means that Peeves does not need to sleep, but sometimes he does it anyway because he likes to dream.

Well, in truth he doesn't actually sleep. Nor does he actually dream. Instead he finds a private, shadowy corner where he lies on his back in mid-air and closes his eyes. He then spends hours giggling to himself as he recalls all the ways that he has caused trouble in the past, as well as coming up with new ways to disturb the peace.

We join Peeves just as he is coming out of one of those sleeps….

* * *

Peeves opened his eyes and stretched his arms and legs. That had been a particularly good sleep, and now he was ready for anything.

He rolled into a sitting position and yawned, opening his mouth so wide that a beach ball could have fit in there. He smacked his lips several times, scratched himself under one arm and then drifted off to see what kind of mayhem he could cause today.

As luck would have it, breakfast had not yet started, so he decided to go off and make arrangements to start today with an oldie, but a goodie.

On the fifth floor corridor, next to an ornate vase on a plinth there was a very special secret that only Peeves knew about. One of the stone blocks in the wall was a fake. It looked real enough, but if you went up to it and tried to put your hand through it you could reach into a small storage area beyond.

The space beyond the stone was only about three feet wide, but Peeves was able to store a lot of his treasures within.

After checking that no one was about, he reached in and began to feel about. His hand first landed on his dung-bomb collection. They were always fun and he quickly stuffed one into his pocket before resuming his search. His hand then landed on one of his giant mouse traps. Again they were always fun, but they were not what he wanted right now.

Then he found exactly what he was looking for.

* * *

Moaning Myrtle was doing what she did best, having a good moan, when the door to her bathroom suddenly banged open and Peeved zoomed in.

"Get lost spotty face!" he ordered her, mockingly. "I've got work to do!"

Tears welled up in Myrtle's eyes and a sob escaped her lips before she wailed and demanded "Why do you always have to be so mean?" before turning around and diving into one of the toilets and hiding away in the u-bend.

Peeves cackled wickedly and made his way over to one of the sinks. He turned the tap but no water came out. No water ever came out of that tap. Peeves wondered why no one had ever fixed it.

He moved on to the next tap and began filling the first of two dozen water balloons.

* * *

The Entrance Hall was crowded and students from all houses milled their way through towards breakfast, which was currently being served in the Great Hall.

As they talked and laughed they failed to hear the approaching sound of jingling bells, so none of them managed to duck for cover.

Their first warning was a loud "_Wheeeee_!" which Peeves emitted as he barrelled towards them, flinging water balloons in all directions.

Screams and yells filled the air. The crowd surged as everyone tried to make for the relative safety of the Great Hall all at once.

Peeves cackled at the sight of all this chaos and shouted at the top of his lungs "Watch out ickle firsties!" before throwing a large red balloon at a group of first year Hufflepuffs.

Some of the older students were raising shields and those around them immediately began trying to share their protection. Peeves cackled again and zoomed around. He went behind Angelina Johnson's shield and managed to get her, Katie Bell and Alicia Spinnet all in one go.

Then he spun and got Terry Boot and Michael Corner with one large orange balloon.

"Peeves, cut it out!" shouted one particularly brave fifth year prefect.

Peeves blew a massive raspberry at him before soaking him with a blue balloon.

"That will do Peeves!" shouted another voice.

The poltergeist wheeled around and saw that Professor McGonagall had come out of the Great Hall to find out what all the fuss was about.

Peeves blew another loud raspberry and threw his remaining balloons into the air and sped off, leaving them to drop down on the poor unfortunate souls who had been standing directly below him.

Cackling with glee, he sped off along a corridor, literally bouncing off the walls as he went.

* * *

Long experience had taught Peeves that, after pulling a stunt like that with the water balloons, it was best if he kept a low profile for a few hours. Not because he was afraid of people trying to seek retribution, but because they would be much more on guard and therefore much harder to get.

Knowing that she wouldn't have any lessons until the afternoon, Peeves decided to hide out in Professor Vector's Arithmancy classroom for a while.

Once inside the classroom his eyes were immediately drawn to the blackboard where a series of very complicated looking arithmancy equations were written out.

Peeves grinned and sped over. He grabbed the board wiper and immediately set about wiping the blackboard clean.

Once that was done, he grabbed a piece of chalk and began to replace all of Professor Vector's equations with rude words.

Today he found himself fixated on the letter 'B' and so set about writing out as many words beginning with that letter as he could think of.

Words like: _Bottom, boobies, bogey, bugger, bum _and _blimbusnerk _(I'll not tell you what that last one means, just suffice to say that if a Goblin saw it, there would be a mass rebellion before you could say fwurgle-gloupe (which, incidentally, you should never say in the presence of a mermaid! Merman, yes, mermaid, never! You have been warned!))

* * *

In the end Peeves didn't remain in the classroom for very long. The castle was far too quiet for his liking, and he endeavoured to change that.

On the sixth floor, just near the top of the staircase, there stood an antique cabinet that was filled to the brim with old school trophies. This was one of Peeves' favourite targets, and he had a wide grin on his face as he sped towards it.

First he positioned himself on the left side of the cabinet where, by sliding his fingers into the gap between the back of the cabinet and the wall, he was able to slide it forwards s bit. Then he went to the right side of the cabinet and did the same.

By doing this he created a gap just wide enough to allow him to squeeze behind the cabinet and push it forwards, towards the stairs.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, Peeves," said a regal sounding voice.

Peeves poked his head out around the side of the cabinet to see who was talking. It was Nearly Headless Nick, the ghost of Gryffindor Tower.

"Oh, and what's old ruffle-neck going to do to stop Peeves?" asked the poltergeist in a taunting tone, before giving the cabinet an extra-violent shove and sent the think crashing down the staircase to the fifth floor, causing the glass to shatter, the wood to splinter and the gold and silver trophies within the scatter in all directions.

Peeves cackled loudly, even as the voice of the caretaker, Argus Filch, bellowed up from below.

"PEEVES! I'll have you out of the castle this time, you mark my words!"

"You do know that I'm going to have to inform The Bloody Baron about this, don't you?" asked Nearly Headless Nick.

Peeves blew a massive raspberry with his tongue and turned to leave.

Then he froze, fear clenching his heart (if he had one) for just ahead of him, the spectral form of The Bloody Baron was rising up out of the floor, his angry eyes fixed menacingly upon Peeves.

"There is no need to inform me of Peeves' latest indiscretion, Nicholas. One of those medals flew right through my head."

"Y-your Bloodiness, s-sir!" stammered Peeves, taking his bell-covered hat off of his head and bowing low like a subservient house elf. "Peevesy meant no harm, sir. He meant no disrespect!"

"Be gone, you wretched creature, and pray that I do not hear of you bothering the residents of this noble castle again today!" bellowed the Bloody Baron.

"Y-yes sir!" stammered Peeves. "O-of course, sir! Peevesy is sorry, he is. Very sorry!"

And with that, the poltergeist sped off, intent upon putting as much distance as possible between himself and the terrible visage that was The Bloody Baron.

* * *

Peeves did not have a very good short-term memory. As such, as the lunch period was drawing to a close he was looking out for his next target.

Unnoticed by all, he drifted in through the open doors of the library before floating up to the ceiling within. From this position high above the tall bookcases, he could look down at the study tables and attempt to locate the perfect victim.

He soon spotted them. Harry Potter and Hermione Granger were sitting side by side at a table, surrounded by several piles of textbooks, along with parchment and quills. Peeves didn't know it, but they were researching spells to practice in the next session of the D.A.

It had been a while since Peeves had pranked Harry Potter and so decided to use him as his next target.

"This one looks interesting…" said Harry to Hermione, right before they heard the dreaded jingle of a bell-covered hat and _something_ crashed down onto their table sending their books, parchment, ink and quills flying in every direction.

Before they could stop him, Peeves had ruined both sets of their notes, smashed three inkwells, broken both their quills, torn open Harry's schoolbag and torn the pages out of eight library books

"Peeves!" yelled Harry. "Stop it you pest!"

The poltergeist laughed uproariously and grabbed Harry's nose in a painful pinch.

"Got your conk!" he squealed with glee.

Then, quite suddenly, and even more unexpectedly, Peeves' fun was ruined.

Something quite hard and quite heavy hit him on the back of the head very forcefully, causing him to yelp and spin out of the way of any further blows.

Righting himself he turned and saw that Hermione was on her feet, a thick tome in her hands and a furious look on her face.

Peeves petulantly blew a massive raspberry at them and sped off as Madam Pince came over to help the two Gryffindors sort out the mess before them.

Nearby a group of third year Gryffindor girls had seen the entire byplay and thanks to this the debate over whether Hermione had hit Peeves in order to protect Harry or to protect her textbooks would run rampant within the Hogwarts rumour mill for at least the next five months.

* * *

Peeves was sulking and had been for the past five hours. Today was not turning out to be a good day for him to have fun. First his pushing a cabinet down a staircase had resulted in him getting yelled at, and then his attempts at playing with Potty – wee – Potter had ended when the bushy-haired bookworm had hit him on the head with a book.

The poltergeist wanted revenge. He wanted to pull a prank so big that everyone currently going to school in the castle would tell their grandchildren about it.

He couldn't think of anything though.

But sometimes in life, opportunities just present themselves.

Something pink caught his eye and, upon turning to get a better look, he saw that it was Dolores Umbridge hurrying along the corridor towards the Great Hall for dinner.

A wide grin appeared on Peeves' face and he swooped down and followed on behind her.

At the bottom of the marble staircase, Umbridge paused to inspect the large house hour glasses which kept a record of how many points each of the Hogwarts houses had. Needless to say, between herself and Snape, Gryffindor house was currently in negative figures. -147, to be exact.

Everyone else appeared to already be in dinner, so Peeves took his chance.

He plucked the dung-bomb out of his pocket and gave it the gentlest of squeezes, just to get it going gently before he subtly slipped it into the pocket of Umbridge's cardigan.

Umbridge didn't notice and, having finished inspecting the hour glasses, she made her way into the Great Hall, not aware of the green-coloured fumes that were beginning to seep through the fabric of her cardigan.

Peeves floated up and perched himself above the door to wait.

He didn't have to wait long.

First there was a shout as a boy noticed the fumes. Then the screams began, accompanied by the sounds of the benches along each table being pushed back. After that came the stamping of many hurried footsteps.

The doors to the Great Hall burst out and the students stampeded out, most with tears in their eyes, some with their robes lifted up to cover their noses and mouths. Some were coughing, some were retching and some were actually throwing up.

Some tripped over their own feet, some ran into others. It was complete chaos.

And as a great lover of chaos, Peeves cackled uproariously at it all.

Once the stamped had subsided, Peeves ventured into the Great Hall, where he found Professor Dumbledore, along with most of the other Professors and a few of the braver prefects casting air-freshening charms.

Meanwhile Madam Pomfrey was making her was towards Umbridge, who was lying in a twitching heap on the floor, having been knocked over and trampled by the stampede.

Peeves cackled at the sight and left the scene before the Bloody Baron showed up.

Unknowingly, Peeves had just done a massive service to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The injuries that she sustained meant that Dolores Umbridge spent the next two weeks in St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. Once she was released she refused to return to Hogwarts and, once people learned what had happened to her, Cornelius Fudge quickly found a distinct lack of volunteers to take her place.

Sometimes having a poltergeist knocking around can be a good thing. It's just really rare that they prove it.

* * *

**And that's that one. Hope you enjoyed it!**


	4. The Origins of a Monster

**The Origins of a Monster**

_Summary: __Fenrir Greyback was said to have been one of the worst werewolves in the history of the magical world, but where did he come from, and what made him this way?_

_Warnings:__ Werewolf attacks, violence, mention of suicide._

_Special Mention:__ As with the previous story, this one is also a tribute to a cast member of the Harry Potter films who very sadly passed away recently. After hiking in the Death Valley region of California, actor Dave Legeno, who played Fenrir Greyback in the last three Harry Potter films, apparently got into problems caused by heat exposure. His body was found by other hikers a few days later on Sunday, 6__th__ July, 2014._

* * *

When Mrs Greyson gave birth to a son, she and her husband decided to give him the unusual name of Fenrir, after the fabled wolf of Norse mythology, in the hope that he would grow up to become strong and powerful.

It was a decision that would prove to be almost prophetic.

* * *

By the age of thirteen, Fenrir Greyson had become the bully of the neighbourhood. Being bigger, older and indeed stronger than all of the other kids in the area made it so that Fenrir found it easy to dominate over the others, especially at this time of year.

There were older children belonging to the families in the area, but they were all off at that fancy-schmancy castle up in Scotland. Fenrir's parents could not afford to send him to Hogwarts and so his mother opted to home-school him while his father worked a low-level job in the Ministry's Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures.

The Greyson family were dirt poor; poorer even than the Weasley family. As such, Fenrir had learnt from a young age that if he wanted something he would simply have to take it from someone else.

Some days, this included food.

One day, Mr Greyson came home and quickly spread the word throughout the community that a werewolf was believed to have moved into the area. As there was a full moon that night, Mr Greyson and a dozen of his co-workers would be patrolling the area in search of the beast. Meanwhile there was a strict 9 pm curfew imposed upon all the residents in the area.

Due to the lack of food, Fenrir went to bed hungry that night. But having had nothing all day, sleep evaded him as his mind focussed solely upon his empty stomach.

By eleven pm he decided that he couldn't stand it anymore. He got out of bed and opened his bedroom window. He knew of the werewolf's presence, but he doubted that the beast would come in close. Werewolves operated best in the dark and all the street lamps had been left on specifically for this reason. If the werewolf approached, he would see it and could get to safety before it could get to him. He was, after all, a very good runner.

He returned to his bed and pulled out from underneath it a length of rope that he had procured a few years ago. He tied one end to the bed and then slung the other end out of the window. He climbed out of the window and slid down the rope onto the dried out lawn below.

There he paused to look around, but saw nothing. He stepped out into the street and across the road. He would raid the bins behind the local corner shop to find something to take the edge off his hunger and then be back inside the safety of his bedroom before anyone noticed, be they his mother, his father, a ministry official or even the werewolf.

Simple.

Unfortunately, and despite his diligence, he did not see the pair of amber eyes that belonged to a large, dark shape that was crouched beneath an old beech tree.

The blood-curdling screams that followed woke up the entire neighbourhood, but by the time anyone got outside, the werewolf was disappearing into the blackness of the night, leaving only a badly scarred teenager behind.

* * *

In the days before the Wolfsbane potion was invented, Ministerial procedure for a werewolf was relatively straightforward, but not really as barbaric as one might think.

Treatment for werewolf wounds was a simple application of dittany and powdered silver. This did not remove the lycanthropy infection, but it sealed the wounds and ensured that the victim lived. It was then for the family to purchase a custom-made, iron bar cage into which the werewolf would retreat on the night of the full moon in order to be kept out of harms' way while in their wolf form.

Hardly as barbaric as most bleeding-hearts try to make out, in fact most werewolves came to appreciate their cages immensely, knowing that they would not be putting the lives of others at risk. After all, you muzzle a dog that's a danger to people, so what was the problem with a werewolf being shut away for one night every month? Even after the invention of the Wolfsbane potion, most werewolves still opted to be shut into a cage, just in case.

Still, to some the cage is an insult to their pride. They are unable to accept being locked up like some kind of feral, rabid animal. Of course, they in their minds completely ignored the fact that on the nights when they were required to enter their cages, that is exactly what they were.

As much as some complained about the cages being barbaric, the simple fact was that if every werewolf simply followed this bit of legislation, the lycanthropy virus would have died out within a century as it would have found no new hosts to infect.

Fenrir Greyson, who was used to being the big kid on the block, used to being the bully, and used to coming and going from his home as he pleased, did not take kindly to the cage that his parents were forced to purchase.

The first transformation was horrible and afterwards he vowed to never enter that cage again.

* * *

The day before the next full moon he ran from the house and into the woods that stood nearby. He would stay there the night, out of the way. He would stay there and come back home in the morning, and everything would be alright.

Too late did Mr and Mrs Greyson realise that their son was missing. Mr Greyson alerted everyone in the area, but some of their children were outside and in immediate danger.

Becky Thompson and Gemma Ackerly had been playing on the edge of the woods all day and it was now past time for them to return home. As they ran back along the dirt path that led to the village where they lived, a pair of amber eyes caught sight of them and moments later a large, furry body leapt out at them from within the darkness between the trees.

Gemma was bowled over by the beast, but Becky was pinned by it and its massive jaws bit down savagely upon her arm.

Her screams caught the attention of the search party, and moments later the ground next to the werewolf exploded as a spell impacted it.

Fenrir let go of his victim and looked up at his attacker, straight into the eyes of his father. The wold within him growled and he positioned his body ready to attack this new threat.

But more people were coming, and more spells were being fired. He yelped as a cutting curse hit his flank and he turned and ran, vanishing into the blackness beneath the trees, never again to be seen by his father.

* * *

Dawn broke with a dim light the next morning, and on a grassy knoll in the middle of the woods, Fenrir Greyson woke up. The first thing that he noticed was that everything around him, including he himself, was wet from the morning dew.

The next thing he noticed was that his mouth tasted strangely of blood. He spat onto the grass and saw that his saliva was stained red.

He tried to move, but a pain in his side stopped him. He looked down at himself and saw the cut on his side. It seemed to have mostly stopped bleeding now, but it still hurt like hell.

He forced himself to sit up, spitting once more as he did so, and surveyed the area around him.

He was in the woods, exactly where he had planned to be. He must have stayed there all night, just as he had wanted, and now he could go back.

Then the memories from the night before came back. That's the thing about being a werewolf, in your wolf form, you remember no one. You'd kill your own mother if she crossed your path, but in the morning you remembered everything that happened while you were a wolf.

He recalled attacking those two girls. He recalled biting one of them. He recalled being attacked, and looking up into his father's furious eyes…

The cold realisation hit him. He could not go back. Not only would the other villagers hate him for what he had done to that girl, he would also face the wrath of his father.

And if the Ministry got wind of this, he would probably be put down.

A small part of him wondered if that wouldn't be for the best, but he quickly quashed that thought.

Listening intently, he heard the voices of people approaching. No doubt they were hunting him. His father was probably with them.

In his human form, Fenrir was not as fast as he liked to think, nor was he a match for a full grown man in a fight, be it physical or magical.

His chances of surviving were minimal if he remained there, so he quickly decided that he would just have to leave and never come back. It was as straightforward as that.

And so he left, never to learn until years later that his father had been sent to Azkaban, where he perished, for his negligent handling of his werewolf son. Nor would he learn that his mother became such a pariah within the village that she was eventually driven to take her own life.

* * *

**A/N:**** So there you go. Short, I know, but that's all it was meant to be, though I might develop this more one day to going into how he became the leader of the werewolf pack and so on, but for now, the story finishes here. Obviously, he either changes his name from Greyson to Greyback himself, or he is given the name by the other werewolves.**

**My thoughts on werewolves are that due to the Ministry mandating that they should be caged on the night of a full moon, Wizarding Britain had got over a good amount of prejudice towards werewolves, knowing them to be a threat one night a month, but also knowing that they were shut away during that time but a lot of minds at ease and a lot of fears to rest. But then when Fenrir and other werewolves joined Voldemort, the fear came back, driving the creation of the Wolfsbane potion.**


	5. Not So Fast Food

**Not So Fast Food.**

_Summary:__ Harry always wanted a normal life – wife, kids, dog, house with the white picket fence, that sort of thing. But what if his life as an adult was normal? This story looks at what that life might be like, on one un-particular Wednesday. Enjoy_

_Warnings:__ Grouchy parent. A few bad words. Harry/Ginny pairing. Albus Severus Potter exists. No Magic._

_Note:__ So at the end of this there are four short little alternate endings, which were suggested by Teufel1987. This is the first time that I've ever added what could be considered an omake to a story, but after Teufel sent me a PM with these little snippets, I couldn't resist adding them. If at any point any of you feel like submitting an alternate ending or extra scene of your own for any of the one-shots that appear in this collection, then by all means write it out and send it over. If its good enough, I will certainly add it, with full credit to you._

* * *

"Daddy, I'm hungry."

"Well, we'll be home soon, sweetie." Harry Potter answered.

That was, of course, a lie. They were in a car on a road in a built-up area at half past five on a Wednesday afternoon, which meant that they were in a traffic jam that probably would take another hour to get through.

If they were lucky, that is.

Harry fully supported James' involvement with the after-school football club, but having to pick him up during rush-hour traffic made the whole thing one big inconvenience. Harry hated driving in rush-hour traffic, and did his best to avoid it. James' football practice ensured that every Wednesday, Harry spent a good hour and a half stuck in his car, driving at an average two miles per hour (or so it felt).

James, at twelve years old, seemed to have hit his teenage years prematurely. He wore that expression on his face that was characteristic of all teenagers. You know the one; that expression that conveys a constant disappointment and resentment of the world as a whole, and, when directed at you, makes it seem that they think that you are the biggest moron on the planet. He's one of those who is always fiddling with their iPhone™, to the extent that, were it not for the fact that he put it away during football practice, there would seem to be an highly likely possibility that the only way to get it out of his grasp would be via surgery.

Harry didn't see the point in a twelve year old having an iPhone™ anyway, but his wife Ginny had brushed off his arguments against it with that old favourite "Oh, Harry, you have no idea what's cool."

Well maybe not, but what certainly was not "cool", at least in Harry's book, was him being the poor bastard who had to fork out thirty pounds each month to pay for the bloody thing.

James was currently sat beside Harry in the front passenger's seat, staring at the aforementioned iPhone.

Albus, the nine-year old was in the seat immediately behind him. Albus, like his father, usually wore a pair of glasses, but he had broken the left lens on his pair that very morning. As was typical, there was no sign of his spare pair and so Albus had just spent the entire day at school wandering around half-blind. Ginny had promised to go into town during her lunch break and see about getting his glasses either mended or replaced.

She hadn't.

Lily, the six-year old and only girl, was sat behind Harry. It had been she who had whined about being hungry, and she wasn't about to take her dad's placating words on board.

"But I'm hungry now," she moaned.

"Lily, we'll be home soon," said Harry. "We can have dinner then."

"But I'm starving," she continued to whine.

"Are you really?" asked Harry in a bored voice, wondering idly if the white van in front of him was ever going to move.

"Yes," answered Lily, as petulantly as any female of her age could. "And if I don't get food soon, I'm going to die."

"Really?"

"Yes, cuz my tummy will get so empty that it will start to jest itself and I'll die."

Harry knew that by "_jest_" she meant "_digest_."

"It doesn't work like that, Lily." he assured her.

"Oh yes it does!" she replied indignantly. "James told me so."

Harry turned to send a reproachful look at his oldest son, but James, staring blankly at his iPhone™, was just about to make his day worse.

He flicked up an app and after a few moments he grinned and said "Dad, I've just used the McDonald's Restaurant Finder app™. There's one right around the corner. We could eat there."

As Lily and Albus broke out into loud cheers in the backseat, Harry gave his oldest son a look that clearly said _"You better sleep with one eye open from now until you go to university."_

* * *

Despite the restaurant being just around the corner, it still took them another fifteen minutes to actually get there, thanks to the traffic.

By now Harry was getting a little bid irate, but gladly turned the wheel to swing the car around to the drive-thru™.

"What the-?" he muttered, slamming a foot on the brake pedal.

Ahead of them were five orange traffic cones, blocking access to the drive-thru.

"Drive-thru must be shut," observed James, rather unnecessarily. Only the fact that his younger two were in the car with them stopped Harry from muttering "No shit, Sherlock!"

Instead, Harry resigned himself to trying to find a parking space in the less-than adequate car park. Another ten minutes passed before he finally managed to squeeze into a space between a white van and a concrete wall. It was a tight fit, but the car was parked and they all got out.

Unfortunately their space was the one furthest away from the doors of the restaurant, so Harry had to take extra care in leading his kids through the car park, especially as both Lily and Albus seemed to have got it into their heads that it would be appropriate to have a race to see who could get to the doors first.

After shepherding his children out of the way of a speeding car driven by a moron in a stupid hat, Harry came to a stop, gazing in agony at the sight before him. The queue for the restaurant was so long that it now extended out of the doors and around to the side of the building itself.

"No way," he said, determinedly. "I'm not doing this! Everyone back to the car, come on."

"But Daaaaaad…" protested Lily.

"Nope!" said Harry, firmly.

Lily sniffed, wrinkled her nose, pouted and began to cry.

* * *

"Finally," muttered Harry as they, after twenty long minutes, stepped through the doors to the restaurant.

His phone began ringing in his pocket, and he pulled it out to answer it.

"Hello? Yeah, hiya Ginny. No, we're in McDonalds. Yeah, I know we agreed but- Yes I remember, but – Look, we're here now so do you want anything? Alright, bye."

He put the phone away and nudged James' shoulder. James managed to wrench his eyes away from his text-messaging to give his father a disinterested look.

"Don't let me forget to get your mother a McChicken Sandwich™ before we leave," said Harry.

James rolled his eyes and went back to staring at his I.Q. reducer… sorry, iPhone™

* * *

Another ten minutes passed, and they were finally getting close to being able to place an order.

Albus was standing off to one side, gazing at a display case containing examples of this month's selection of free toys, shamelessly both promoting and preying on the popularity of the latest film to be churned out of the Pixar animation studios. James was also standing off to one side, still playing with his iPhone™ like a zombie.

And Lily… Lily was standing in line just in front of Harry, fidgeting from side to side. Harry knew what that meant. She was not fidgeting because she was excited. Nor was she fidgeting because she was hungry. No, she was fidgeting because she needed the toilet.

As if she realised that he had spotted this, Lily turned around and looked up at him to proclaim "Daddy, I need a wee."

"Well go then," said Harry. "The toilets are only over there."

Lily turned to look at the door that led to the toilets before turning back and stating "I'm not old enough to go on my own."

"Aren't you?" asked Harry, wearily.

"No. You have to take me."

"Well…" said Harry, trying to find an argument. "Lily, we're nearly there now. Can't you hold it in until after we've ordered?"

"But I really hafta go!" she protested, jigging up and down on the spot.

Harry rubbed a hand over his eyes wearily before muttering "Fine. James, Albus, hold our place in the queue please. If you get served, I'll have a Big Mac Meal™ and Lily's having a Happy Meal."

He then grabbed Lily by the hand and led her through the door that led to the toilets.

For a brief moment he wondered exactly _which_ toilet he was supposed to take her too, but in the end led her towards the men's room, as he was certain he wouldn't be welcome in the ladies' room.

"Yuck!" exclaimed Lily. "It stinks in here."

"Yep," agreed Harry, leading her towards the nearest stall. "Get in there and do what you got to do."

Lily entered the stall, only to emerge five seconds later, looking rather green. "The last person didn't flush," she explained.

Harry blinked down at her before looking over her head into the stall, only to which that he hadn't. Well, at least they knew where the smell was coming from!

Doing his best to avoid looking into the toilet bowl, Harry attempted to do everyone a massive favour by reaching out to pull the flush, only to discover that it wasn't working.

"For Christ's sake!" he grumbled before grabbing Lily's hand and leading her to the stall at the opposite end of the row. The air still stank, but it wasn't as bad as it there. Lily went in, did what she had to do and came out again. They both washed their hands and got the hell out of there.

"What-?" began Harry once they were back in the restaurant area.

Neither James nor Albus were standing in the queue. James was still standing off to one side, gazing at his iPhone™ and Albus was still gazing at the display stand.

Worse, the couple who had been standing behind them in the queue were currently getting served.

"Oh, for the love of-!" snapped Harry.

* * *

No one in the queue was sympathetic to their plight, and they were forced to re-join the back of the line. From then there was another half-hour of waiting before finally they were being served.

Now, Harry was not a prejudiced man by any means. He did not give a rat's are what colour your skin was, what religion you where, where your political allegiances lay, what gender you were or what age you were. So if some woman in her early twenties wanted to leave her home in Romania to travel to England and attempt to earn a decent living by working the evening shift at a McDonalds Restaurant™ for minimum wage, then that was completely fine with Harry.

But was it really too much to ask that she be able to understand him when he asked for for a Big Mac Meal, a Chicken McNugget Happy Meal, a Cheeseburger Happy Meal and a Filet-O-Fish meal?

She had invited him over to her till with the well-rehearsed words of "Can I help you?" only for Harry to now find out that the answer was "No you can't."

After repeating his order three times, the last one spoken so slowly that other customers began to shoot him dirty looks, Harry was ready to give up.

Even pointing up to the large images above them and emphatically stating "That one!" produced no positive results.

Fortunately some spotty-faced supervisor with greasy red hair and braces on his teeth finally noticed their plight and came over to offer assistance. Unfortunately, rather than just serve Harry outright, the supervisor elected to turn the whole thing into a training experience for the woman. Harry just smiled politely and agreed whenever he was asked something. He would have rather just been served, but everyone was a trainee at some point, he supposed.

Their drinks were provided and the supervisor politely asked them to take some seats as, owing to the large amount of customers, there were a few orders waiting to be cooked before they got to theirs.

Harry led his kids through the restaurant and found a free table. It hadn't been cleared yet, but Harry soon sorted that out, dumping everything onto one tray, stacking them and placing them on top of a nearby bin.

Moments after they sat down a diligent cleaner appeared to Harry's left and gave their table a wipe over using that blue liquid they all used.

Harry was glad to finally sit down. Opposite to him Lily was happily slurping on her strawberry milkshake and to her left Albus was using his straw to blow bubbles in his cup of orange Fanta. James meanwhile, was sitting to Harry's right, completely ignoring his cola in order to continue staring transfixed at his iPhone™.

Harry took a careful sip of his coffee and sighed contentedly. As much fuss as getting it had been, the coffee never failed to be superb.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Harry was out of his seat and pushing his way to the front of the queue to find out where their food was. It turned out he previous supervisor had gone home, leaving Harry to deal with his blond haired replacement who was wearing way too much makeup for someone working in McDonalds.

No record of Harry's order was to be found, so the new supervisor diligently put it all through the till again. Then there was a five minute period in which he had to get it through her thick skull that he had already paid for his food.

Finally he returned to the table carrying the tray containing their food.

He passed everything around before sitting himself down and unwrapping his Big Mac.

Before he could take a bite, Albus asked "Hey! Where are my fries?"

Harry sighed, set his burger down and pushed his way to the front of the queue again.

A normal person would have walked out by no, but damn it, he'd paid already! This place made enough profit annually without customers paying but not receiving their food!

Five minutes later he dumped a cardboard packet of French fries in front of Albus and sat back down in his seat.

He picked up his Big Mac and, at long last, he took a bite.

It was bloody cold!

"Bloody hell!" he cursed.

"Bad language!" admonished Lily, wagging a finger at him.

Harry reached across the table and grabbed up the nearest of her Chicken McNuggets and bounced it off her forehead.

* * *

"WE'RE HOME!" Lily declared loudly when they finally entered through the front door of their house.

Ginny, who was currently chatting on the phone, made a shushing gesture before waving at them in greeting

As the kids dashed off to do whatever it was they intended to do, Harry walked over to Ginny and placed a kiss on top of her head before making his way into the kitchen.

There he let out a sigh of exasperation. They had a very simple system in their house. In the morning, just before he went to work, Harry would go from bedroom to bedroom gathering up everyone's dirty clothes before heading into the bathroom to collect any towels before carrying the heavy laundry basket downstairs and sitting it in front of the washing machine before heading out the door.

Ginny would then put a load of the clothes into the washing machine and turn it on before heading off to work herself.

Well, in theory that was they system they had in place. On entering the kitchen Harry saw that today, like most days, Ginny had not upheld her end of the bargain. Seriously, putting the stuff in the machine, adding the cleanser and switching the machine on was all she had to do, and it took a fraction of the time it took Harry to collect it all into the basket upstairs.

Harry walked over to the washing machine, pulled the door open and began shoving clothes in.

"You're back then," Ginny stated, entering the kitchen just as Harry turned the machine on.

"Yes, at long last," replied Harry, walking over to give her a hug. "Remind me to never allow our kids to work in a fast-food restaurant."

"That bad huh?" asked Ginny.

"Worse," said Harry.

She nodded before looking around the kitchen. "So, where's my McChicken Sandwich?"

Harry blinked in annoyance.

"Oh, fu-!"

* * *

**A/N:**** Well, he always wanted a normal life. That's the kind of shit you have to put up with in a normal life. I must admit that I'm interested in expanding upon this "Normal Harry" universe. A protect for the future, maybe.**

**Yes, this did contain Harry/Ginny. I don't ship it, but it works for this story.**

* * *

**Omakes! **By Teufel1987

#1

_(After James finds the closest McDonald's using his app)_

_"Hey, James," said Harry as he slowly used his right hand to press the driver's power window down. "Can I see that phone?"_  
_Not waiting for a response, he deftly plucks the instrument from his son's slack grip with his left hand and in one fluid motion launches it out of the open window_  
_"There…" Harry said with a satisfied sigh as the power window slowly made its way up. "All better!"_

#2

_(After James tells him of the McDonald's)_

_"I am giving you one minute to say that you were mistaken" Harry said in a low threatening voice that only his oldest could hear._  
_"Because if you don't, you will find that your iPhone won't be able to do much because I won't be paying the bills!"_

#3

_(At the McDonald's after Harry and Lily come back from the loo)_

_"James? I told you and your brother to stay in the queue while I take Lily to the loo. Why didn't you do that? Since you didn't do that, I guess we can assume that you DON'T want to eat at McDonald's after all … oh well, come on kids, we are going home! Don't look at me like that, Lily, it's your brother's decision. He is the reason why we are here in the first place and now he's the reason why we are leaving. All his fault. If he had only stayed in line…"_

_So after that he bundles his irate kids home._

#4

_(Also at the McDonald's after Harry and Lily come back from the loo)_

_"James? I told you and your brother to stay in the queue while I take Lily to the loo. Why didn't you do that? Tell you what, you get to the back of the queue and order, I'm taking Lily and Al to sit down at a table."_

_"Oh, come on Dad!" complained James._

_"And I'll be taking that too," added Harry as he stole James' iPhone. "You can have it back after we've all eatern."_

_James gave him a sullen look before stomping over to the back of the queue._

_At the table, Harry held up the iPhone and began playing about with it._

_"Are you reading his messages?" asked Al._

_"Nope," replied Harry. "Just playing a little _Angry Birds_ to kill some time."_

'As well as drain the remaining battery charge,' he added in his head...


End file.
